


Merlequin Drabble Collection

by itachitachi



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Amnesia, Attempted Murder, Bodyguard, Canon Related, Drabble Collection, F/F, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Merlequin, Merlin Modern AU, Mindwiping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-10
Updated: 2011-06-22
Packaged: 2017-10-20 07:10:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 2,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/210092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itachitachi/pseuds/itachitachi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a collection of eight drabbles, written for the Merlequin Last-Drabble-Writer-Standing challenge (round 1). They are each a different pairing, drawing on different cliches from <a href="http://merlequin.livejournal.com/818.html">this list</a> as prompts. None of them have been edited from the original posting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. if we could eat love, we'd never go hungry

It is difficult to claim to hate someone when they have just given you their half of the last remaining coconut, but Merlin tried his best.

 _He's a complete prat_ , Merlin reminded himself, as he tried valiantly not to eat all of the coconut's innards in the space of five minutes. It wasn't so hard, considering the way the coconut flesh clung to the inside of the shell, as if determined to survive despite all odds. Merlin understood how it felt.

Arthur, the rich, mysterious arsehole whose company Merlin had been forced to endure for the past 136 hours (or so he estimated), stood up quickly, the crunch of sand nearly masking the strange rumbling noises emanating from his stomach.

"You're so gaunt," Arthur said. "Even a whole coconut isn't enough for you. I'll go catch you a fish."

"Good luck," Merlin muttered, determinedly attributing the fluttering in his stomach to hunger pangs. _He's a complete prat._

A bit of coconut fell off from the shell into his fingers, its resistance weakening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arthur/Merlin, 100-200 words. Cliche: stranded with a stranger.
> 
> This one was one of my favorites. :D


	2. no hope for second chances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions character death, contains memory manipulation.

She was ill, and he'd always been able to cheer her up. Gwen was too busy nowadays to get her flowers, but Merlin would. He hovered by her bedside, hot face turned away as he arranged the daffodils. She fancied she could feel the thing resting on the tip of his tongue, so close to slipping out his mouth.

"There's no need to be shy," she told him one day, and drew him down. The kiss tasted of static.

"Morgana," he said uncertainly, when their mouths pulled apart.

She smiled at him, thrilled and carefree like she hadn't been since her younger days. She told him, "I don't want to hear it," and kissed him again.

She liked the way he moaned.

 

He looked older when he sat by her bedside, knowledge lurking in the creases of his eyes. Kisses didn't help, but the sound of her laughter did. She would lie back and laugh and a smile would startle its way out of him, turning his face bright. His smiles were warming, like sunlight.

 

Part of the excitement was in the danger. It was easy danger, childish danger, the sort she was used to flirting with. Her dreams were the real terror, violent and jagged, but they always faded to a haze by dawn, forgettable. They must not be important, she thought, tentatively hopeful, or perhaps the sickness was ridding her of them.

It wasn't until she contemplated Uther finding out that she realized.

"Why hasn't he visited me?" she asked Merlin. Uther would always visit her during her sicknesses.

Merlin looked pained, worn, as though he'd expected this but long hoped against it.

"You killed him a year ago," he said.

She blinked.

Slowly, he lifted a hand to her forehead. His eyes went golden, and she forgot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merlin/Morgana, 300 words exactly. Cliche: amnesia.
> 
> I had a really hard time writing this one and, upon submitting it, was absolutely sure I was going to be out! I'd like to go back and fiddle with it someday but don't have the spoons now.


	3. there's a first time for everything (including you)

It’s not Percival's first job. He's been doing what he does for a long time, and he's good at it, he knows. He's one of the best. But this is, admittedly, the most eccentric job he's ever taken.

"In summary," says Merlin, the cheerful PA who's been briefing Percival, "dress to blend in when he's going to a club, check his one-nighters for concealed weapons if possible, but don't sweat it if not, and don't encourage him to pursue a lasting relationship or he'll fire you."

"...Okay," says Percival, taking it in stride.

"Oh," Merlin adds, "and you're allowed to sleep with him if he asks."

Percival's good at presenting an emotionless front, but even he betrays himself at that, bewildered. "Pardon?"

"He'll proposition you," Merlin decides, eying Percival's strong shoulders, his hands. "It'll be easier if you accept, he'll leave you alone after you do it once. We don't fire people for sleeping with the boss—we'd all be jobless otherwise." He gives a rueful laugh.

"...Right," Percival says.

**

It's not the first time Percival's been propositioned, either. It's just the first time he's considered taking someone up on it.

"No, that's okay," he says, nevertheless. It's what he always says.

Arthur is brilliant and golden, shining in the dim light of the living room, but now he looks wrongfooted, like a normal man and not a sensuous, tempting god. "That's okay?" he parrots.

"I don't sleep with the people I work for," Percival mumbles, and doesn't add, or anyone, really. Yet.

Arthur eyes Percival like he knows exactly what he hadn't said, and says, lazily confident, "I can change that."

**

It's the first time Percival's lost control under pressure.

"Get down!" he bellows, and makes it to Arthur's place at the table in time to tackle him to the ground—just as all the windows shatter.

There's chaos all around, screaming and panic, but Percival just cradles Arthur's head and says, "Jesus, oh god, Arthur, are you okay? Are you okay?"

Arthur groans, his hands fisting in Percival's shirt. Percival's suddenly very aware of their positions, his body huge over Arthur's, pressed to him like—

"Please," Arthur whispers, staring up into his eyes. "Say yes."

Percival shakes his head. "No, Arthur. Sir. No."

Arthur's eyes go hard, determined. "I'll get you," he promises. "One day. And I won't let go."

**

It's the first time Percival's fallen in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arthur/Percival, 200-400 words. Cliche: duke of slut.
> 
> I loved writing this one... the first go was just the teensiest bit too long and edits took some of the punch out of the end. Still, Percival is super fun for me.


	4. tomorrow, i'll pay you in love

"The tab is how much?" the extremely attractive, extremely drunk man next to Merlin at the bar was saying. "I don't think that's how much the tab is."

"Believe it, mate," the grim-looking bartender said. "Pay up."

"Erm," the extremely attractive man said. He grabbed Merlin's hand suddenly. "My moderately wealthy husband will pay the tab."

"Husband?" the bartender asked, suspicious.

"Moderately wealthy?" Merlin asked. He peered down at the attractive man's attractive hand, contemplating its attractively strong grip. (He might perhaps have been somewhere in the realm of extremely drunk himself.)

"By moderately wealthy I mean wealthy only in moderation," the attractive man explained to Merlin. "Mostly I just mean that you are wealthier than me. Which you are."

"Listen, I don't care," said the bartender. "One of you, pay up."

"But," Merlin said, fairly certain that he should be protesting something about this. "I'm not wealthy at all."

"You're not?" asked the attractive man.

"I'm mostly broke," said Merlin apologetically.

"Oh, well in that case," the attractive man said, "I think we should run." And he grabbed Merlin by the arm and they ran, just as the bartender began shouting behind them, and they didn't stop until they reached a flat which the attractive man owned the keys to. Inside, they ensconced themselves firmly together on the couch.

"I'm Merlin," Merlin said, ignoring how the couch was swaying beneath him.

"I'm Gwaine," said the attractive man, flashing Merlin an attractive grin.

"I think you're beautiful," Merlin admitted bashfully.

"And I think you're adorable," Gwaine said.

"Good enough," Merlin decided, leaning forward, and then he passed out, which was really not on. But the sex that they had the following afternoon made up for it.

In the end, they never became even moderately wealthy, but they did get married.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gwaine/Merlin, 300 words. Cliche: pretending to be married.
> 
> These guys are just fun! :D


	5. i dreamed of victory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: planned murder (not carried through during story)

Perhaps the problem had been in all her previous plans being too complex, Morgause reflected. All she really needed to accomplish her goals was a good, sharp knife.

The blow to the head she had suffered when their little kingdom had been invaded had not killed her, nor had it stripped her of any physical ability. It had only taken her magic. Morgana wept with madness and relief, but Morgause took up blades—they were her only weapons now. She knew there was nothing she would not sacrifice to see Uther Pendragon lying cold and dead, a powerless husk just like she now was.

Uther had changed in the time since she had last seen him. His hair, though still shorn harsh and close to his head, had gone white. His eyes, when he opened them to gaze up at her, were vulnerable. Soft. This was not a warlord. It was not Uther Pendragon. It was simply a man turned child with grief.

It was disgusting, she thought, her knife trembling as she put it to his throat. It was unnatural.

He seemed not to realize the danger he was in, merely kept staring up into her eyes, lips parted. His hand lifted slowly from where it rested on the bedspread. She watched it come up, and up, until it tangled gently in the ends of her fair hair.

"Ygraine?" he asked, voice shaking.

Something cracked inside her.

There was a burning behind her eyes, and in her chest, bright and hot. It wasn't magic; it wasn't rage. She had meant to feel victorious in this moment, and he had denied her even that.

"I pity you, Uther Pendragon," Morgause whispered, the blade steadying in her hand. "I pity you so much that if it soothes you to think another woman is with you now, in this moment, I will let you."

He smiled at her and touched her cheek. There were tears in his eyes.

She mourned the Uther Pendragon of her nightmares, and wondered if mercy would be cruel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Morgause/Uther, 300-350 words. Cliche: revenge, mistaken identity.
> 
> This one was really interesting. I had a version where Morgause went on and killed Uther in the end, but thought it was a bit over the top and unnecessary. The ending to this one is a little weird too, though.


	6. practice, never perfect

When Arthur rings and asks Leon to be his best man at the wedding, Leon says, "You proposed to her, then?"

Arthur says yes, yes he did, and Leon says, "Congrats then, mate. But are you sure you wouldn't prefer Merlin as your best man?"

Arthur says no, Merlin would cry and make a mess of everything. Arthur says, he wants Leon there. At his back.

When Arthur hangs up, Leon puts his head in his hands and says, " _Fuck_."

*

It's not until months later at the stag party that he can bring himself to discard all responsibility and drink over it. Possibly not the best of times to be getting plastered, considering the wedding is tomorrow, but _the wedding is tomorrow_.

There's a lot of tequila. Leon watches Arthur laugh and drink and touch everyone too much, a hand tight on Gwaine's shoulder, feet knocking against Merlin's under the table, sitting too close to Elyan. In the moments between his bursts of energy, Arthur looks nervous, sick, and his eyes sometimes come up to catch Leon's, worried. Leon raises his glass to him, trying not to think too hard.

Somehow, Arthur corners him in the bathroom.

"I still remember you teaching me how to kiss when I was fourteen," he says, drunk and earnest.

"I'd always hoped those lessons would come in handy," Leon says, staring fixedly down at his hands as he rinses them. "They must have. You're getting married tomorrow."

Wordless, Arthur reaches under the tap and grips Leon's hand tight.

They stand like that until the water runs cold.

*

"Leon will drive me home," Arthur announces.

"Leon isn't driving anywhere," Lancelot says firmly. "You'll take a taxi."

"Together," Arthur insists, and grips at Leon's elbow.

In the taxi, Arthur curls up against him. "We should practice together," he whispers to Leon's shoulder. "Kissing. I need the practice."

Leon wants to kiss him, but doesn't.

*

The next day, Arthur never arrives. Leon stands at the altar with the bridesmaids and feels a wrenching in his chest, like being stood up.

Behind it, there's something small, like happiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arthur/Leon, 350 words. Cliche: runaway groom.
> 
> This one came in first place. :D Very surprised, but very happy! I liked this one.


	7. Chapter 7

Gwen had grown up cursing the will. It was nice to know that you had a manor and a fortune waiting for you when you married, but the fact that your suitors knew it too made romance a bit... difficult.

"Cedric," she said, sighing as she removed his greasy-fingered hand from her person. "I really think we'd do better as friends."

A voice came from behind her. "Is this man bothering you, Guinevere?"

"Arthur!" she said, turning hurriedly to him. "It's quite alright. Cedric was just leaving."

Cedric scowled, but under Arthur Pendragon's firm eye, slunk reluctantly away.

She had never really considered Arthur a potential husband. He lacked a certain spark (and she suspected his occasional romantic gestures were all thought up by his chauffeur, Merlin), but Gwen was starting to think he was the best she could hope for.

Until she glanced to the side and took in his companion, who was staring at her, stunned as if she had hung the stars.

"Guinevere, this is Lancelot," Arthur said. "Lancelot, Guinevere. She often has problems with unwanted men."

"I'd imagine so," Lancelot said, in a dazed sort of voice.

Gwen blushed. "It's because of the manor," she blurted. "It'll be bequeathed to me if I marry a man of standing, so I get many... offers."

Belatedly she kicked herself. Saying it only led to questions like _how large a manor_ or _would you like to go out?_

But all Lancelot said, looking increasingly dismayed, was: "A man of standing?"

Gwen tore her eyes from his face and noticed his shabby clothes, then bit her lip. "It's not terribly important," she said. "I've always wanted love more than a manor."

"That's admirable," Lancelot whispered, taking her hand. "I hope you don't mind if I can only provide the one."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gwen/Lancelot, 200-300 words. Cliche: the Will Stipulation.
> 
> This one is not as great as it could've been XD I wrote it WAY last minute because I was packing/moving/flying that week, and I really suspected I would end up going out. It was also originally WAY longer. The idea's not really suited to be a drabble.


	8. our love is now

"She's like me, Gwen," Morgana says, tapping painted nails against the metal bracelet. "I'm drawn to her. She's the woman most like me that I've ever met."

The words echo into the days ahead. Gwen worries, thinking of them.

But you can't find love in a mirror. You can't find it in trinkets, or even in flowers. Love only grows in hearts, and in the warmth of open arms. Love is all Gwen has to give, and she gives it.

"I'm not like you," Gwen says. "But I like you. Is that enough?"

She kisses Morgana's brow, peaceful in sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gwen/Morgana, 100 words. Cliche: the evil other woman.
> 
> I really liked this one. Generally I just like to play with the cliches, and I think there was a lot to go off with Morgause being both evil and a sort of "other woman" in Morgana's life, not necessarily in a romantic way.


End file.
